


This was the plan, right?

by Sablewick



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Canon Era, M/M, Magic Revealed, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sablewick/pseuds/Sablewick
Summary: Gwaine hadn't ever really had an opinion on magic, not until he became a knight of Camelot. Now he was supposed to have an opinion, and that opinion was that magic was bad.He couldn't really say that he agreed.
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	This was the plan, right?

Gwaine was no stranger to Magic. It's been commonplace when he was a child, and then he'd become a rogue and a hired swordsman which had led to a fair share of magical encounters. Both pleasant and unpleasant.

He didn't really have any opinion of it really - it was just there - until he'd taken up residence in Camelot. Then he was supposed to have an opinion. And that opinion was that magic was bad.

There was a ban on magic and people were afraid of it. Not just of those that could potentially have it, but those who did have it were afraid of themselves, and afraid of everyone else discovering their secret. Even people who had no magic at all were afraid of doing anything that could be considered magical because suspicion was enough to get you executed.

Gwaine considered this stance to be, quite frankly, ridiculous. There were a lot of people dying that didn't have to. Not just innocent people who actually had no magic at all, but people with magic that weren't doing anything problematic with it. It didn't seem right, and Gwaine couldn't understand why such a hard line was drawn, and why Arthur, who seemed like a really good bloke despite the arsehattery, enforced it so completely.

Couldn't he tell the difference between good magic and bad magic? Was there something Gwaine was missing?

After fighting a bunch of immortal knights and helping Arthur retake his kingdom from his evil magic wielding half sister, Gwaine was willing to give Arthur the benefit of the doubt and give consideration to the idea that there was some larger picture that he couldn't see. He followed Arthur faithfully, and fought with the other knights against numerous magical creatures, petty revenge driven sorcerers, and magical infestations. He felt that he was doing good work, he was saving people, he was helping to build something great.

However, he was forced to question his loyalty to this cause again, when a young boy, clearly no evil mastermind and absolutely scared out of his wits, was dragged before Prince Arthur under the accusation of magic.

While Gwaine was willing to admit it was possible that the child could be a druid or a sorcerer or whatever, and was only regretting his use of magic now that he was facing the consequences, the fact that his accuser was clearly a vindictive, abusive, arsehole made Gwaine suspect there might be some other explanation. 

Gwaine looked to Arthur, expecting him to pick up on this as well, but was struck with a certain sense of dread when he could see nothing but grim resolve in his expression.

The little bundles of cloth that had been placed before Arthur as evidence could have, indeed, been hex bags intended to cause immeasurable harm, or some minor discomfort, depending on what had gone into them. But this kind of thing was also used for protection and any number of inane purposes, if they were even intended to be magical at all.

While Arthur was staring at the evidence, however, Gwaine couldn't get over the way the boy wasn't even begging anymore, like he knew he was done for. He flinched every time his accuser moved.

Gwaine didn't know what to do. He was afraid to speak up because it wasn't his place. He'd been here for what? Five months? He was a formerly banished commoner (technically not but perception was everything) who Arthur had knighted on a whim and the only reason he'd garnered any respect at all was because he could wield a sword proficiently and drink everybody under the table. 

He looked around at the other knights, expecting someone to make some kind of protest, for someone to say something. The least they could do was push for an investigation. But to his growing horror he realised that this boy was about to be sentenced to death and everyone here was going to let it happen. There was barely an uncomfortable face in the bunch. The only person looking as distraught as Gwaine felt was Merlin, and it looked like he'd already said his piece in private given the way Arthur was studiously ignoring him. 

This was a regular occurrence in Camelot. People died because no one was willing to speak up and because Arthur didn't listen to servants.

Gwaine steeled himself for the reprimand he was probably about to endure, took a deep breath, and broke formation.

All eyes turned to him as he sauntered forward with as much authority as he could manage. He stopped a respectful distance from Arthur, looked down at the little pile of cloth bags on the table and made an exaggerated point of examining them closely. Trying for all the world to appear as if he was perfectly qualified to make some kind of assessment.

They were just little bundles of cloth that smelt weird, there was literally no way to tell if they were harmful or not by looking at them. The only way to tell would be by reading the expression of the accused who was clearly too distraught to act and unable to speak out for fear of his abuser.

Gwaine could feel Arthur's glare burning into the side of his head. There was no way Gwaine could pass himself off as an authority on magic, but...

Before anyone could stop him, Gwaine picked up one of the bags and - just in case it was something deadly - pretended to give it a quick sniff. 

"Ah! Potpourri!" Gwaine exclaimed, keeping a close watch on the boy.

The shock and relief that passed across his face was enough to convince Gwaine that he was completely innocent, whatever the bags were, and he immediately felt justified in arguing for the boys freedom. Especially when he noticed the furious tirade about to burst forth from the accuser.

Gwaine laughed and tossed the bag back onto the table. "Draws the stink right out of your socks."

Arthur looked a bit stuck for a moment, like he couldn't believe Gwaine had just interrupted him in front of an entire room full of important people. And also rather like he regretted knighting Gwaine, which was an expression Gwaine had seen rather a lot so he was pretty familiar with it by now. But there was also something like relief wavering there as well and Gwaine suspected that Arthur didn't want to execute this boy at all, didn't know how to identify magic, hadn't managed to come up with any non-magical alternatives, and didn't trust himself to let an accusation of magic pass without punishment just in case he was wrong. He'd likely been sitting there trying to figure out how to spare the boy without losing respect and appearing weak.

"You've seen this before, Gwaine?" 

Gwaine winked at him, deciding he better play it up a bit and get rid of some of the awful tension weighing down the room. "Perfectly harmless. Any of the girls would know it at a glance."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "And you know because..." 

Gwaine knew about potpourri because his sister had stuck the damn stuff everywhere, but that wasn't really in line with his reputation. He looked fondly into the distance. "I have been gifted such things by many a young woman."

Arthur cut him off before he could get any further.

"Right, well, with your feet it's no wonder." He waved dismissively at the surrounding knights. "Release the boy."

The congregation broke up, and the weight of silence lifted as everyone headed out to continue their day. Gwaine made a mental note to go check on the kid and maybe make some light threats to the man who'd accused him before deciding he maybe needed to go and find a corner to hide in so he could decompress and deal with what he'd just seen.

That boy had almost died for nothing. The close brush with death via the deliberation of a prince was almost as bad as seeing it happen with swords in the field. Gwaine had almost been sentenced to execution himself, but while he never felt he deserved it, he'd always at least been doing something that could warrant it. A child, though. Surely there should be an exception.

The injustice of it made Gwaine want to beat some sense into certain people and then go and drink himself into oblivion. 

Before he could enact either of those plans though, he was waylaid by Merlin who led him discreetly into an isolated stairwell.

For a moment, Gwaine thought Merlin was about to try and proposition him the way other inhabitants of the castle kept doing and anticipation rocketed through the centre of him. He'd been hoping for it and had honestly thought something might've happened sooner given they now saw each other nearly every day. He'd purposely turned down all other offers he kept getting on the off chance that Merlin might finally make a move. 

It wasn't Merlin making a move though. He was, weirdly, thanking Gwaine for preventing the execution. Gwaine reined in his emotions and tried to concentrate. Something very difficult to do when Merlin was looking like an ethereal being, surrounded by the bright white stone walls of Camelot and lit from above by sunlight streaming in through the upper windows. He concentrated on Merlin's eyes and desperately hoped he looked sincere and not deranged.

"How did you know he wasn't a sorcerer, anyway?"

Gwaine panicked for a moment, trying to think up some lie, but this was Merlin. He didn't need to lie to Merlin. "I didn't." Gwaine winced when Merlin's face fell. "I mean, it seemed a bit suspect, didn't it? I thought I'd better check. Can't have Arthur going around executing innocent children now, can we. Don't want him turning into Uther."

Merlin shook his head. Gwaine somehow felt that this wasn't the answer Merlin had been looking for. Maybe he thought Gwaine would've let the kid die if he was a sorcerer. Maybe he thought Gwaine had just facilitated the release of a sorcerer and felt the kid should've died. The thought made Gwaine feel a little ill. It was a child! 

He didn't know where Merlin stood regarding the laws on magic, better to reassure him that the kid was innocent.

"You could tell he wasn't guilty as soon as I said something though." 

Merlin looked at him curiously.

Gwaine winked. "I'm pretty good at reading people." He'd gotten it down to an art form. It was best to know exactly when someone was getting sick of him so he could depart before they got really annoyed. When he liked a person, anyway. Sometimes it was entertaining to get drunk and see how much he could annoy them instead.

Merlin ducked his head and looked away, grinning. It set Gwaine's heart racing, he barely heard what Merlin said next.

"Well, I'm glad you spoke up. Sometimes Arthur just needs someone to present an alternative in a reasonable way so that he doesn't have to lose face with the nobility."

Gwaine nodded. "Well then, feel free to enlist me whenever you think he needs someone to argue with him."

Merlin laughed, pushing him back out into the hallway. Gwaine caught a hold of his sleeve and pulled him out as well, revelling in the way Merlin fell against him, his warm breath dampening Gwaine's collar as he pressed his face to Gwaine's shoulder for just a moment before he righted himself. Gwaine resisted the urge to pull him into a proper hug and instead clapped Merlin on the shoulder. His conversation with Merlin had gone a long way towards making him feel better, but if he stuck around any longer Arthur was going to give him something to do, and he still really needed that drink. 

Or two. Or several. He'd take it one at a time and see how he went.


End file.
